


Being fluent in you

by Purpleonionofsex



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleonionofsex/pseuds/Purpleonionofsex
Summary: As long as he remembers, Jaskier has always loved words.  He is a bard, a poet, and playing with words is his life. Geralt however, is not very fond of talking. But they will need to communicate if they want their couple to work, and in this case, Geralt might just be the more wordy one.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 182





	Being fluent in you

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back, because this fandom is eating me up. Once again, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake. I hope you'll like it!

As long as he remembers, Jaskier has always loved words. He was a blabbermouth as a kid, and now he can spend hours talking at Geralt without really expecting an answer. He also loves to learn new words, be it from the foul mouth of some angry husband or in a royal court he was invited to perform in. He is a bard, a poet, and playing with words is his life.

Geralt however, is not very fond of talking. He is more into humming and cursing. It is not that he is not good with words, it’s just that he doesn’t see the point in talking if a simple “hm” or facial expression can convey what he means. Living alone with Roach for so long also didn’t help.

And that’s a thing Jaskier secretly loves in Geralt: getting to know him is like learning a new language. After several months travelling together, Jaskier is now perfectly able to know when Geralt is just pretending to be annoyed with him and when he is actually ready to snap. It’s all in the shape of his eyebrows, the glint in his eyes, the way he holds himself. It’s a combination of infinitesimal things coming together to be as clear as words sometimes. Geralt is a new language Jaskier enjoy learning every day.

But the truth is, Jaskier is not good with serious conversation. He is good with silence, as in, he is perfectly fine filling it with stories and words passing through his brain. He can do awkward, he always has a few jokes up his sleeve to alleviate the mood. He can even be witty during arguments. But if he has to talk about feelings? Real ones, how he feels deep down? Well, he is also very apt at changing the subject.

*o*o*o*

It’s a tavern like any other really. They’ve been camping in the woods for three days straight and Jaskier is more than happy at the prospect of sleeping in a bed and having a bath. Winter is settling in outside and here the room is warm. Ale is warming Jaskier’s belly and a hot meal is waiting for him after his performance.

He has been singing his new song written a week prior and patrons are loving it. Some drunk men are dancing, others are singing along and clapping, everyone’s attention is on Jaskier and he is preening. Coins are pooling at his feet and it’s with a huge smile that he looks at Geralt, expecting to find him with a small smile of his own watching his lover being this flamboyant.

But Geralt is not watching him. His face is angled toward a woman talking to him, a pretty brunette nearly flaunting her cleavage in Geralt’s face. It’s nothing really, Geralt’s body language isn’t even indicating that he is interested, but it’s enough for Jaskier’s stomach to plummet to his feet.

They never really talked about their relationship. One day they just kissed, as if it was the more natural thing in the world, and they just didn’t stop. They are rarely apart for more than a few weeks, but Jaskier couldn’t help wondering if during these days, Geralt didn’t find some other woman to warm his bed at night.

It would be easy to ask, but Jaskier is terrified of the answer.

Sometimes Jaskier’s heart seems as clumsy as his feet, falling in love as often as the bard is falling on his ass (and it happens more often than he would like to admit). But it has been month – well, who is he kidding? – years, and Jaskier has had only eyes for Geralt. This is honestly terrifying.

Jaskier is no stranger to these nights of panic and insecurities. He would toss and turn for hour on his bed, dwelling on his life, his choices, his past and future. Tonight will clearly be one of these nights.

Is he good enough? Sure, he is earning his fair share of coins at the moment, but will it last? What if “Toss a coin to your Witcher” stays his only hit and people get bored? Will it last with Geralt? Surely the Witcher will tire of his rambling and meddling. What if Geralt misses women? And if they stay together, will Jaskier be happy? He is not sure he wants any, but will he be okay not having children? Probably not getting married? There are just so many questions, but the main one is: Will Geralt love him?

Sure, he cares about Jaskier, that much is obvious. Their love-making is sometimes tender and Jaskier is even allowed to mount Roach nowadays. He _knows_ Geralt like him. But are Witchers capable of love? Their feelings are supposed to be stripped, and Jaskier is not blind, he knows Geralt has some feelings: he can be compassionate, angry, sad... But wouldn’t it be logical to strip him of love, something that could so easily become a weakness in his life?

But despite all the thoughts starting to swirl in his mind, Jaskier keeps singing. His smile barely flatters and he tries to focus on anything but Geralt. He manages two more songs, but his heart is not really in it anymore. He ends the night with a ballad and gathers his coins. He is not in the mood to eat anymore. He should probably just go to bed. He knows he won’t be able to sleep, but if he is in bed before Geralt, maybe ha can pretend to be asleep when the Witcher comes back. Maybe he won’t be able to tell if Geralt is coming straight from the tavern or if he did a quick detour to the brunette’s room. This is silly, but he would rather not know than having his heart broken.

So the bard makes a beeline for their room without even looking at Geralt. He knows tomorrow is another day. He knows he will wake up feeling silly, just knowing he is worth it, that he is great at his job and an excellent lover. Tomorrow, his confidence will be back and he will go on even stronger than today. But tonight, he will let himself wallow a little bit. Who knows, it might even inspire him a new song.

*o*o*o*

Jaskier has only been in the room for a minute, gently wrapping his lute in a cloth and putting it on a chair, when Geralt enters. So long for wallowing alone, then. He breathes in, plasters the best smile he can muster on his face and turns toward his lover.

“Hey, Geralt.”

The Witcher is still in front of the closed door, watching Jaskier with his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gruffly.

Jaskier stops moving. He feels trapped suddenly. He keeps his smile on his face, internally feeling like a deer caught in the sights of a hunter’s bow.

“What do you mean? Nothing is wrong!” he says, turning around to get ready for bed. “I’m just a bit tired and I was looking forward to a comfy bed.”

Geralt sighs through his nose in annoyance. Sometimes he reminds Jaskier so much of a horse, it’s uncanny. He definitely spent too much time alone with Roach.

“We need to talk.”

Gods. Oh Gods. Nothing good ever comes after “We need to talk”. Is Geralt going to break up with him? He probably is, isn’t he? Well, it had to happen at some point. Jaskier just thought he had a little bit more time.

He steels himself and look at Geralt who is finally moving, removing his shoes and his armor before sitting on the bed.

“Come here” he says, looking at Jaskier and then the spot next to him. Jaskier gulps. He feels hollow.

It’s fine, really, it’s going to be fine. Heartbreak makes for beautiful songs. He will just throw himself in his work. He will survive. He just has to get past this moment. Take a few steps. Sit on the bed. Close, but not too close. Just pretend you are alright. Turn toward him, smile, talk.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“You know I can hear your heart, right?” answers Geralt, slightly frowning and wrinkling his nose.

Fuck. Jaskier forgot about that for a moment and there is no denying that his heart is hammering. His eyes open wide in surprise and Geralt sighs.

“Clearly you are panicking about something, so just calm down. Are you so afraid to just talk with me?”

Jaskier tries to relax, he really does. “You know I’m never afraid to talk to anyone” he tries to joke. It falls flat, even to his own ears.

“And you know I am not blind. I could see something happened downstairs. You were reeking of joy and happiness and everything changed when you looked at me. So I am asking you, what happened?”

Jaskier shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. How could he tell the truth? His fears will feel ridiculous to the Witcher. He is the White Wolf, a wild beast, who is Jaskier to want to tame him? Keep him for himself and expect him to be faithful? This is ridiculous.

“Is it something I did?” Geralt insists. Jaskier shakes his head. No, this is definitely not Geralt’s fault.

“Jaskier, by Melitele’s tits, I never thought I would say that but I really need you to talk to me right now.”

Okay. Okay he can do this. Geralt is breaking up with him anyway, right? He can say it.

“There was... this woman...” Fuck, why are words so hard all of a sudden? It’s like a ball formed in his throat, trying to block the words, making tears go to his eyes. Gods, he is pitiful.

“There were a lot of women down there, Jaskier” he answers. Jaskier can tell his patience is wearing thin.

“Have you been sleeping with other people?” he finally blurts. There, he said it.

“Yes.”

 _Yes_. And just like that, Jaskier’s fears are coming true. He feels like the world is crumbling down around him.

“But I suppose you mean since we have been together, then no.”

Wait, what? Jaskier’s ears were ringing so loud he is not sure he heard that right.

“Jaskier. Look at me.”

Jaskier tears his gaze away from his hands. He has been wringing them and looking at them since he sat down, unable to look up at the Witcher. But now he does and Geralt’s face is... not bearing the expression of extreme annoyance Jaskier was expecting to find. In fact, he would even say his face looks _open_.

“Are you having doubt about us?” Geralt asks and Jaskier’s heart jumps. He said “us”.

“Yes? I mean no! I mean, I am not having doubts about us, or you, but I am having doubts about your feelings? And I mean, it’s fine, you don’t have to have feelings about me, what we have right now is great, it’s perfect, it’s just-“

He stops talking when Geralt’s hands bracket his face, forcing him to look into his yellow eyes.

“Jaskier, listen to me because I have never said this before and I will not say it often. I love you. I have for longer than we have been fucking and I will for the foreseeable future. I will try to say it sometime, but this is just not in my nature. But I will do my best to show it to you day after day. I have not been sleeping with anyone since we kissed, and I do not plan to. Believe me when I say, you are _more_ than enough for me. Clear?”

Jaskier nods, tears finally spilling from his eyes as he lunches himself at Geralt to kiss him, rasping “I love you too” between kisses.

They keep kissing for a few minutes, Jaskier straddling Geralt’s thighs and Geralt’s hands finding their way under his shirt, against his ribs. Finally, Jaskier rests his head against Geralt’s shoulder, feeling spent.

“Well, and they say you are not good with words” he croaks, breathless. Geralt snorts.

“I am good with words. People are just idiots and not worthy of them. You are clearly not one of these people. Although the idiot part is debatable.”

Jaskier can hear Geralt’s smile in his words, and he just has to tip his head slightly to see it. He is so beautiful when he smiles. Well, he is always beautiful.

“True, but I am _your_ idiot” he grins, looking at Geralt with fondness and realizing he is not the only one getting fluent in Geralt’s language. Geralt is slowly learning to read him too. He might just be fluent in no time.


End file.
